Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

Mark 10:35-45

October 20, 2024

 

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to Jesus and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”

 

When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many." 

Gimme, gimme, gimme. It’s not the most elegant sermon title. Yet it captures the impulse driving James and John. “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” Would any of us ever say that to Jesus? Would we dare to make such a request? I don’t know.

 ·       Sometimes we pray for the most extravagant results. “O Lord, give the New York Mets victory over the Dodgers.” I haven’t made that prayer, but I might. 

·       Many are praying for their favored candidate to win a tight election. Win quickly so we don’t have to endure any more commercials. Win decisively so we won’t have to listen to the other side whine about it. 

·       What else might we ask? For the restoration of health, or a clear mind, or a peaceful heart, or wars to cease, or children to return home safely. All are important requests.

 Yet listen to what the two fishermen from Galilee want from their Lord. They want to be lifted above those around them. To be granted a place at the front of the line. To be exalted over the rank and file. To be Somebody, and not remain a nobody. They want an increase in status., To have more power and authority than everybody else. To sit beside his ultimate throne. “Grant us to sit in your glory, one at your right hand and one at your left.”

We can question their motivation. Give them credit for following Jesus from the beginning, ever since he spotted them along the Sea of Galilee. They’ve have been in the circle. They’ve seen it all, heard it all, done it all. Doesn’t that count for something? Shouldn’t they be recognized? Shouldn’t they be rewarded for their faithfulness? Oh, if only it worked that way.

No, the way it works is that the other ten disciples hear what they’re saying. They blow a gasket. Some of them are angry that they didn’t make that request first. James and John are trying to nose ahead. Others of them, well, they were just angry. The twelve of them had traveled together with Jesus. They shared everything in common. Here are the Sons of Zebedee requesting preferential treatment at their request.

It’s like the kid who sneaks into Daddy’s hospital room to say, “Hey Pop, can you make me the executor of your estate?” Where are all the brothers and sisters? “Well, I thought I would get here early. After all, you always liked me more, right?” It’s shameless.

So, here’s my question this morning. What kind of church puts a story like this in its Bible? Why was this text written down, published, and distributed? I can think of a handful of quick answers:

First, the story is told by an honest church. All of us like to be noticed. We want to be affirmed. Some of us want to be lifted above the others. Others of us want this but don’t want to be caught. Here’s a story so real it is almost ridiculous. James and John say, “Give us a promotion.” The others say, “Why them? Why not us?”

Second, a story like this is told by a church that teaches an alternative to our natural inclinations. Jesus said to them, “The world out there is run by tyrants.” That’s all the world knows. Some strong man stands tall, says, “Look at me,” promotes himself endlessly, cons others to gain support, all for the sake of getting power and keeping it. The pages of history are full of one egomaniac after another, most of them forceful, all of them tripping over their own feet, none of them ruling forever.

Jesus says, “Do you want that? You don’t want that.” No one wants that except for the tyrant. But there’s an alternative. For those who gather around Jesus, who truly sit on his right and his left, they have learned that service to others is the only way to life. What counts is not our achievement or presumed authority, but our willingness to work for the benefit of others. That’s the definition of “love” in the deepest sense: to make a constructive difference for other people, rather than push them around or steal from their pockets. So, the church teaches an alternative.

Third, this story is told by a church that understands nobody stands taller than anybody else. We have differing abilities, differing circumstances where we can serve, none better than any other, just different. That was the genius of the Protestant reformation of five hundred years ago. It rejected the hierarchy of the medieval church, choosing instead to declare that all of us are Christians together, none better, all of us with gifts differing.

One of my professors put it poignantly. “In a time when the church was split into an exclusive priesthood and the laity, the Reformation eliminated the priesthood and elevated all lay people to become priests.” He was identifying the phrase, “the priesthood of all believers.” In other words, James and John, if you’re going to take a seat, sit here with everybody else.

And there’s one final reason why a Bible story like this is kept by the church. It is a continuing reminder that we are never finished. The Gospel of Mark is offering a critique of Mark’s own congregation. All of us have the continuing temptation to get too big for our britches, to inflate our own importance, to perceive we are more significant than we really are.

I remember the church organist, a wisecracking old soul. He’d sit on the bench, watch all the maneuvering in his congregation, and shake his head. There were always folks in that church trying to pull strings, or make unnecessary speeches, or blather on to say, “Look at me!” His favorite line: “It’s the only place in town where a dollar in the offering plate gives you a million dollars’ worth of opinions.”  

The truth is all of us have a way to go in our moral development. We won’t be finished until we are done. There is a place in each of our souls that requires the Holy Spirit to pull out some sandpaper and keep polishing. It is simply the nature of life, faith, and growth. After all, we have been hearing these Bible stories of these unfinished twelve disciples since July. Haven’t they learned anything yet? Maybe, but there is a way to go.

Meanwhile, the temptation comes all the time – to be important, to make our own turf and defend it, to push ahead of the pack. And to what end?

My friend Dave served for a while as a pastor in a sunny resort town. It was one of those communities where people of great means retire. He said, “Coffee hour was a time for people-watching. They loved talking about how important everybody is. Look, there’s the retired CEO of the rental car company. Over there is the retired senator. Here’s the health care executive; she departed early with a good buy-out.” Everybody was somebody. Sounds impressive, doesn’t it?

The only problem was the church was a mess. Most of those folks were accustomed to being in charge. They excelled at telling others what to do, but they wouldn’t lift a finger to do anything themselves. Those retired bosses were driving their spouses crazy, so the spouses had said, “Go and bug somebody else – why not go to the church and drive the minister crazy?”

Dave said, “I knew it was time to look for another church when the conversation turned to hiring ushers. It was beneath them to hand out worship bulletins. None of them would do it.” On the face of it, it was an exceptionally talented church. Sadly, they were too full of themselves, and not full enough of the self-giving love of Christ.

Are we able to drink the cup? Will we be baptized with the baptism of the servant Christ? The sons of Zebedee say, “Sure!” But were they able? It was too early to tell. As he promised them, Jesus faced certain suffering while James, John, and all the others would run away. In time, they did drink the cup - they found themselves baptized into service. According to the book of Acts, James was beheaded as a martyr (Acts 12:2). According to tradition, John was exiled by the emperor to a small island. Did they think it would be easy to follow Jesus? It certainly was not easy for him.

So, the text reminds us of something essential about the Christian life. To follow Jesus is to serve as he serves, to give as he gives, to give away as he gives away. The Christian life is a life of service and self-giving. We are called to give ourselves to the needs of the world, not to the promotion of our own prestige.

Wrapped in this passage is Mark’s deepest reflection on the cross. Jesus speaks for the first and only time in this Gospel about the power of his death. He calls it “a ransom” payment, to redeem those held captive by sin and its selfishness. He gives his life for the benefit of others – for you, for me, for many. Jesus does not hold back what he can do in the power of his Father’s love. Fear does not immobilize him. Self-importance does not disqualify him. He gives himself freely.

Let that be the lesson learned from those silly sons of Zebedee. Thanks to the love of God, the call of Christ, and the presence of the Spirit, all of us have some sort of power. We have lives full of God-given abilities. So how will we use them? To destroy or to build up? To heal or to break? To love or to punish? It all comes down to service.

Recently I came across wisdom from Leo Buscaglia, who taught at University of Southern California, and called himself “The professor of love.” He said:

The majority of us lead quiet, unheralded lives as we pass through this world. There will most likely be no tickertape parades for us, no monuments created in our honor. But that does not lessen our possible impact, for there are scores of people waiting for someone just like us to come along; people who will appreciate our compassion, our encouragement, who will need our unique talents. Someone who will live a happier life merely because we took the time to share what we had to give.

 

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. It's overwhelming to consider the continuous opportunities there are to make our love felt. 

“Whoever wishes to become great must be your servant,” he said. That’s you and me: loved by the Lord, ransomed, set free from whatever chains us to lesser aspirations. We are freed to be great women and men who serve others, emptying ourselves for them as He has emptied himself for all. This is the shape of true greatness, not expressed in puffing up our chests but serving on our knees.

 

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.